We start out in the early morning. I am excited and worried. Do I have everything I need in my backpack? Will the weather cooperate and not rain, sleet, snow or be too hot? Do I have on the right boots? Then we start walking. The magic takes over and I relax into the moment.
We pass by ancient sunlit trees; we navigate over a fallen tree and everyone laughs as I straddle the tree and cannot rock myself off. I walk with the fast hikers for a while, then the middle ones and finally the slow ones. I have hiked with these people for years and enjoy hearing what the retired lawyers, entrepreneurs, teachers and other various pilgrims from another life have to say. We have left our former lives to begin once again.
We talk about what is interesting at that moment; what books we are reading or have read, those in choirs share their joy in the music, others show us glimpses into experiences we have not had, and sometimes, we talk about grief.
We stop for lunch and glance sideways at what others have brought. One will offer extra pieces of fruit. I always take extra chocolate. Once, on a cold winter hike, one of the hikers brought hot tomato soup. I was sitting beside her, and she offered me the remains. It was perfect.
After lunch the hike seems a little harder. We kid each other: Are we there yet? Watch this part of the trail, it is slick or rocky or crumbling. Others comment on the beauty of a certain plant, a certain view or the sighting of an animal. I once had a silent conversation with a deer who was standing right beside the trail. I stopped as we gazed soulfully into each other’s eyes and then I moved on.
We reach the top of the trail and congratulate ourselves on a job well done. Depending on the time of year, we add clothing if it’s cold because you cool down if you are descending, or you drink extra water because now the day is much hotter, and you need the hydration for the trip back.
We make it to our cars and tell each other goodbye, anticipating next week’s hike. This is meditation, this is prayer, this is rejoicing. This is hiking.
Interested? NPS.gov Homepage (U.S. National Park Service)
Cindy Arp retired from Knox County Schools as a teacher and librarian. She and husband Dan live in Heiskell. And she goes hiking once a week – even in a forest fire.